


Stay Alive

by I_can_only_imagine



Series: Happy April 27th [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCeased (DC Comics)
Genre: Barbara Gordon is Batgirl, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Character Death, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Everyone Needs A Hug, Gen, Jason Todd is Robin, alternate version of jason's death, clark is only mentioned, happy april 27th
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:13:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23875255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_can_only_imagine/pseuds/I_can_only_imagine
Summary: It was snowing outside as Bruce ran up from the batcave, still half in costume.“What a cliche,” he could almost hear Jason say as he ran up the stairs, his toes barely landing on every other step. “At least it’s not raining.”“You like the rain,” he would have said in return.“Only when I’m reading. It’s a bit much when I’m bleeding out.”orIn which Clark flies Jason back to Wayne manir to give him a little more time with his family. Even if it's only a few more minutes.
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Jason Todd, Barbara Gordon & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne
Series: Happy April 27th [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1720528
Comments: 9
Kudos: 98





	Stay Alive

**Author's Note:**

> Based on this animatic of Stay Alive (Reprise) from Hamilton, made by RogueInks  
> https://youtu.be/AhuRuDs1wpo

It was snowing outside as Bruce ran up from the batcave, still half in costume.  
“What a cliche,” he could almost hear Jason say as he ran up the stairs, his toes barely landing on every other step. “At least it’s not raining.”  
“You like the rain,” he would have said in return.  
“Only when I’m reading. It’s a bit much when I’m bleeding out.”  
Jason was bleeding out. He was bleeding out, and had third degree burns and broken bones littering his body. A collapsed lung and an extreme concussion too from what Bruce had been able to see before Clark arrived and flew the boy back to Gotham. Bruce couldn’t stop the images from flooding his mind for the hundredth time since the events of earlier that day transpired. For the hundredth time he was holding his son’s broken body, waiting on Superman to arrive and save what he had lost.  
Alfred was waiting for him at the top of the stairs by the time he reached them, removing his bloodied medical gloves.  
“Where is my son?” Bruce demanded, trying to get past his Butler but being stopped by a firm hand. Bruce’s eyes drifted past to the cart filled with bloodied medical supplies, the sight making him light headed.  
“Master Wayne, Mr. Kent brought him in an hour ago. He lost a great amount of blood on the way-”  
“Is he alive?” Bruce interrupted, the panic becoming too much to stay inside. Everything he held in fell molten hot from his eyes.  
Alfred sighed and gripped his shoulders, “He is, but you have to understand. His heart was not beating when they arrived. I was barely able to bring him back-”  
“Can I see him, please?” Bruce interrupted once again.  
“Just this way,” Alfred led him through the hallway, his ever calm persona cracking to show his own worry. Before he opened the door, he turned back to Bruce, “I am doing everything I can, but I don’t know how much longer he has.”  
The door opened and the air filled with the heavy metallic scent of blood and it’s acidic partner of disinfectant. Bruce rushed to the bed, the shaking in his bones worsening the moment he saw his son.  
“Jason,” he barely breathed the name as he reached out.  
“B,” Jason smiled as if he didn’t have painful tears running down his face to match Bruce’s own. He leaned into his touch and for a second Bruce’s heart wished to forget death standing at the window and try to ground him with the ever adoring glint in his son’s eyes.  
“I did it just like you said,” Jason said, closing his eyes. “I held my head up high. I stared that clown down even when we got to ten.”  
Bruce pressed his fists and head into the mattress to try and ground himself again. Quickly he looked back up and shook his head, a sob building in his throat, as he wiped Jason’s tear, smearing them with the drying blood, “I know, baby, you did everything just right.”  
“I stared him down and I covered her-”  
“Shh, I know,” Bruce was almost begging, torn between longing for his son’s voice and wishing for him to rest.  
“Dad,” Jason sobbed out, the smile slipping into the fear he rarely let show. Bruce came undone and pressed their foreheads together, holding Jason in his arms for what might be the last time.  
“Shh, save your strength,” Bruce hushed him, kissing his head through the pain.  
The scream that came from the doorway dug the knife deeper into his chest, pulling him out of the embrace. He turned just in time for the second scream, this one calling out Jason’s name. Barbara and Dick stood in the doorway, out of breath from the same run Bruce had made up the stairs. Barbara’s face twisted in horror, her shaking hand raised to clasp over her mouth, and Dick’s eyes were that of a freshly broken man.  
“Dick, Barb,” Bruce stood to meet them.  
Barbara pushed right past him, falling to her knees where he had been. Jason closed his eyes again at the contact of her hands cupping his face.  
“Is he going to survive this?” Barabara asked, almost begged over her shoulder.  
Dick burst into actition from her words, surging forward to grab Bruce by the collar of his suit. He sometimes forgot just how strong Dick had gotten over the years until his fits of rage like the one they were going through now.  
“Who did this?” Dick demanded through his tears. Before Bruce could answer, Dick yelled, “Did you know?”  
“Dick-”  
“Answer the damn question Bruce! Did you know she would do this?” Bruce could hear Barabara shouting for Dick to stop behind them and Alfred telling them this wasn’t what Jason needed, but it was drowned out by the sound of his heart beating in his ears.  
“I didn’t know,” Bruce managed to get past his lips.  
“Bull shit!” Dick cried, his grip tightening the way it did before he threw a punch. No hit came though, as a small voice interrupted the exchange.  
“Babs? Dick?” the small voice called, so much more broken than it had been just moments before.  
Dick let Bruce go in an instant and joined Barbara, one of his hands overlapping hers to fully ingulf Jason’s hand and the other finding his brother’s hair.  
“Little Wing,” Dick whispered the same time Barabara said, “Baby Bird.”  
“I’m so sorry,” Jason whimpered, chasing both of their touches as his chest wracked with sobs of breath. “You taught me how to- I should have been able to defuse it.”  
“Little wing stop,” Dick shook his head.  
“I forgot so much,” Jason pushed on despite his brother’s plea and his straining voice. “You taught me so much and I forgot. You taught me violin…”  
“When his voice started to trail off, Barabara squeezed his hand, “You hated playing by the rules. You could never sit still.”  
“You would put your hands on mine,” Jason reached out his free hand as if to prepare a fingering on an invisible violin. Dick caught the hand as it fell back down under its own dead weight and pressed his lips to it.  
“You changed the melody every time,” Dick said against his hand.  
“I would always change the line,” Jason said, his voice giving out at the end of the sentence. Dick gently laid his hand back down onto the mattress and kissed his head next to where Bruce had.  
Bruce covered his mouth to not cry harder as he stared at his three children. Frames of Jason’s days in the manor flashed through his head, drowning out the frames of his bloodied body.  
Jason standing on a stool because he refused to sit as he played while Dick stood behind him, hand on hand to show the proper fingerings and posture, Barabra in front of them explaining pieces of the music.  
Jason in the kitchen with Alfred, dutifully learning all of the recipes the Butler kept so close to his chest.  
Jason hanging off his back, arms wrapped around his neck and legs around his torso while they listened to Commissioner Gordon after a long night’s work.  
Jason curled in this very same bed as Bruce read his favorite classical novel as a bedtime story,  
Back in reality, Barabara begged Jason to save his strength. Dick begged him to stay with them. Jaosn, as stubborn as ever, refused to listen to either, his voice going on no matter how weak and tired it became.  
“I’m not afraid,” he promised, eyes going in and out of focus.  
Bruce carefully climbed up onto the bed and gently lifted Jason up so that he was laying in Bruce’s lap without Barabara or Dick breaking their contact with him. Alfred sat at the foot of the bed, now openly crying with them as he rested his hand on Jason’s ankle.  
“I’m not afraid,” Jaosn repeated, gentler this time. “Not with you here. Is that bad?”  
“Not at all baby,” Bruce promised, lips pressed to his hair.  
“We don’t want you to be afraid,” Barabara said.  
“I won’t be afraid then,” Jason decided with the biggest smile his strength, or lack thereof, would allow. “I’m so tired though.”  
“Master Jason, you must try and stay awake,” Alfred said, his voice steady despite the emotion written all over his face. There was a defeated slump to his shoulders that Bruce had never seen before, even after his parents’ deaths.  
“Alfie, thank you,” Jason whispered, closing his eyes. Alfred had to turn away and cover his eyes with his freehand.  
“Babs, don’t let Dad or Dickie do anything dumb when I’m gone,” Jason continued.  
“You can make sure they don’t, because you are staying right here,” Barabara heaved, squeezing his hand. “Do you hear me Jason? I am giving you a direct order to stay with us.”  
“I’ve never been good at following orders,” Jason hummed. His body became heavier on top of Bruce, each muscle releasing one by one instead of all at once as he tried to hold on.  
“Jason, please,” Dick’s voice shook. His head fell onto his shoulder where his hand had been before, said hand now gripping the bed sheets tight enough to tear them.  
“It’s so hard holding on. It hurts so much,” Jason let out a pitiful sob. “I want to let go before I get scared again.”  
“Then let go,” Bruce said. Both Barabara and Dick looked up at him in betrayal, but his focus was solely on the weight on top of him.  
“You need me,” Jason tried to shake his head but winced at the attempt.  
“We do,” Bruce nodded, letting himself cry into his hair. “But if you need to let go, then let go baby. We will be okay.”  
“I love you.”  
“We love you too,” Bruce said.  
With Bruce’s words, the boy went completely still and all of his muscles relaxed until all his weight had fallen onto Bruce.  
There was no telling how long they stayed in the room. No telling who was the first to move.  
They left the body in the bedroom for that night. It felt wrong to move it right away, but Alfred convinced them all to still sleep in their own beds.  
Little did they know that in the dead of night, one of Talia al Ghul’s men lurked outside the window, waiting for them all to be asleep to make his move...

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my lovely girlfriend for beta reading this one shot for me!


End file.
